Claire continued, “He didn’t come to that room”—“We’d be in other places”—Her voice momentarily hardened—“I don’t like that room”—“No color!”
Meredith smiled, “I agree. Why don’t you tell Emily you want color?”
Although her eyes were covered with the sunglasses, whose need with the setting of the sun had diminished by each minute, they became terrified at the mention of telling Emily.
Meredith soothed, “You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to. I won’t say anything. You decide when you’re ready to talk to the others. I know when you do, they’ll be thrilled.”
Claire’s breathing calmed. “Maybe just you, right now?”—“You’re the only one who says his name.”
“What can I say, I’m a bad influence. I’ve never been good at following rules.”
Claire turned away, her voice was only a whisper, “I’ve been too good.”
That night, Meredith returned Claire to her room before the alarms sounded and the reinforcements came. She debated telling Claire about her impending meeting. Her good sense told her to stay quiet; the poor woman had dealt with enough, but as she was about to say good night, Meredith worried what Claire would think that when she didn’t return, it was because she didn’t want to, and since there was a chance that tomorrow morning, she’d be escorted from Everwood in police custody. Meredith couldn’t allow Claire to think she’d abandoned her.
Looking around the colorless room, Meredith made a promise to herself—if—by some miracle—she made it through tomorrow, she’d buy Claire pictures, drapes, and a bedspread with color.
“Claire, what’s your favorite color?”
Claire hadn’t spoken since they returned to the facility. Meredith wasn’t sure why, but it seemed that Claire wasn’t as comfortable speaking within the walls of Everwood, as she had been out on the grounds. Meredith watched as Claire walked into the bathroom and reached for her toothbrush. Returning, she handed it to Meredith and smiled a sly smile—the handle was pink. Understanding her unspoken word, Meredith nodded and asked, “Can you please put this back?”
When Claire was within the bathroom, Meredith followed close behind. To reassure her friend, Meredith spoke in more of a whisper, “I don’t think your room is monitored. If it were, I think I’d already be in trouble for discussing Tony.” Claire’s change of expression made Meredith reconsider, finally, she pressed on, “Please let me talk—I don’t have much time. They’ll wonder where I am.”
Claire nodded.
“Tomorrow, I have a meeting with your lead doctor and your sister and brother-in-law.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them what you’ve accomplished. Remember, I told you Emily has done a great job keeping you and Nichol out of the public eye?”
Claire very slightly nodded.
Meredith hurried on, “I know you remember that I’m a reporter.” Quickly she added, “I’m not here to do a story. I’m here because I want to help you; but Emily doesn’t know that I’m here. I may have lied about a few things to get this job. When Emily and John find out I’ve been with you for the last few months—”
Claire’s eyes widened again.
Meredith seized her hand. “Yes, Claire, it’s been months. When they learn who I am, and that I lied—I won’t be allowed back to see you.”
Claire’s new expression of terror broke Meredith’s heart.
Meredith continued, her words still forming rapidly, “I’m so sorry. Please keep working, and be honest with your family. They love you.”
Claire’s voice was barely audible as she asked, “When?”—“when’s your meeting?”
“Early tomorrow morning.” Shrugging her shoulders, Meredith added, “By the time you finish your breakfast, I might be in police custody.” Standing tall, she continued, “I’m only telling you so you know that I didn’t abandon you. No matter where I am—I’m thinking about you.” Placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders, she added, “Claire, I know you’ll continue to get better and soon you’ll be with Nichol.”
Before she gave into the emotions demanding her recognition, Meredith turned away. In her most even voice, she called, “Good night, Claire. Please know that I have faith in you.”
The tears didn’t begin until she was safely down the hall from Claire’s room.
Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well.
—Josh Billings